


Agent Undercover

by romanticalgirl



Category: Bandom, The Academy Is...
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-02
Updated: 2011-10-02
Packaged: 2017-10-24 06:28:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/260159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courtney is William's secret weapon. Mike learns that's not all she is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Agent Undercover

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/profile)[**inlovewithnight**](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/) for the beta. Courtney Beckett is, at most, a peripheral player in bandom - she's William Beckett's sister and she does photography for the band. Also, she is cute and adorable. No harm or disrespect is intended.

  
Being drunk is nothing new. It’s not like it’s a hobby, because he can’t afford it to be, but it could be a pastime. And he normally doesn’t drink when they’re home, not like this. Not out at a bar, determined to get shitfaced as quickly as possible. He thinks he’s earned it, given that he just left the biggest, most vicious argument the band has had to date.

What is new is the sight of Courtney Beckett, fresh-faced and under-aged, sliding onto the stool next to him. She looks at the bartender, sizing him up, then sighs and orders a ginger ale.

Mike doesn’t look at her for a long time, preferring to stare at the bottom of his glass. “Tell Bill to fuck off, sending his baby sister to do his dirty work.”

“What are you talking about?” She takes a sip from the glass in front of her. “This is my neighborhood bar.”

“You live across town.”

“You’re mean,” Courtney tells him. When he glances over at her, she’s smiling, just a hint of upturned lips that makes him want to punch her as much as he does her brother. Fucking Becketts.

“I left the studio on purpose.”

“And that purpose was to get away from my brother and the band. And I’m neither of those things.”

“Maybe I left because I wanted to get drunk.”

“Mission accomplished.” She gives him a thumbs-up.

He scowls at her. “And laid.”

“Well, that would hopefully improve your disposition, though if you keep glaring at everyone, it’s not really likely to happen at all.”

“I get laid.”

“I’m sure you do.”

Her patronizing tone sets his teeth on edge. “I _do_.”

“I’m not arguing.” She takes another sip of her soda.

“Anyway, you’re cramping my style.”

“I think that you don’t actually _have_ style, but if you want to insist that you do, I have to assume it’s that you glare at women until they swoon and, if that’s the case, I think I up your glare level. Besides, I’m currently the only woman here.”

“Girl.”

“Woman.” She glances around, as if verifying her claim. She nods happily when she’s right, but when she looks at him, her eyes widen and her cheeks go pink. “Oh. Oh. Oh, shit.”

“What? What? Shit what?”

She lowers her voice, looking around again. “Is this a gay bar?”

“ _What_?!”

She covers her mouth, which fails to stop her giggle. “Shit. Am I cockblocking you, Carden?”

“Shut up. Fuck you. Fuck.” He downs the rest of his drink and signals for another. “You’re _just_ as annoying as your brother.”

“That is blatantly untrue. No one’s as annoying as Bill.” She sips her drink as the bartender comes over. “You can serve him. I’m taking him home.”

“You don’t even have a car,” he snaps. “Go away. Go bother someone else. Prove to me that one person in the goddamn Beckett clan can take a fucking hint.”

“You don’t have a car either. Bill said you walked out. Why?”

Mike takes a deep drink, draining the glass. “Yeah. I walked out.”

“Bill says you quit the band.”

“Courtney.” Mike puts the glass down carefully on the bar and looks at her, holding her gaze until she drops her eyes. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“Bullshit. Bill’s my brother and I want him to be happy. And you and Sisky and Tom and Butcher are his band and he needs you.”

“We aren’t working. Something’s got to give.”

“Well, it _can’t_ be you.”

“Bill can write just as well with Tom.” That’s the problem, of course. That Bill could. That Bill would. That, due to the fact that Mike keeps pushing him for new shit, for the next thing, Bill _has_.

“Not just for Bill.”

“Butcher and I butt heads all the time. And Sisky will be better off without his parents fighting. Besides, if I go, Bill can pretend to be the dad in the scenario, since Conrad’s a bigger pussy than he is.”

“I’m not…” She groans in frustration. “You’re such a fucking idiot.”

“Hey! Fuck you.”

“Yes,” she snaps, reaching out and grabbing his shirt. She tugs him forward until he’s pressed against her, tasting her breath when he sucks in air. He doesn’t have a chance to say anything else with her mouth on his, tongue pressing firmly to part his lips.

“Take it outside,” the bartender shouts, slapping the bar in front of them.

Mike jerks back, his eyes wide, staring at Courtney, not even close to sure that he knows what just happened. Courtney’s looking at him with the same surety that he got from William the day he told Mike his plan for a band. His eyes drop from hers to her parted lips and then the rapid rise and fall of her chest. When he looks back up, her tongue slides across her lips. “Take me home, Mike.”

“Courtney…”

She slides off the stool and looks back at him as she turns and heads for the door. He glances at the bartender. “How much?”

The bartender taps the money Courtney must have set on the bar. “You’re covered.”

“Right.” Mike looks at Courtney as she goes through the door, then slides off his stool to follow her. Outside, she’s waiting for him, and she presses him against the wall of the bar, her body hard against his. She tastes like ginger ale and cinnamon, and he groans into the kiss, his hands settling on her hips.

“C’mon,” she murmurs into his mouth. “Take me home.”

“Your parents’…”

“Not if you want to fuck me.”

“Right. My…” He kisses her again, his thigh sliding between her legs. She’s hot and perfect, her firm breasts crushed against his chest. “Fuck. My place.”

**

The apartment is just a couple of blocks away but it takes forever to get there, stumbling into walls as he kisses her. He refuses to think about what’s happening, about how many times he’s thought about this, and most of all how William is going to kick his ass. It’s easy to forget all of it as he holds Courtney’s hips, his fingers on the hot skin beneath her t-shirt above the waistband of her jeans.

He trips going up the stairs and pulls her down on top of him, her breath fanning over his collarbone through his thin t-shirt. “Fuck.” His hips rock up of their own accord, and his head hits the stair. He groans as she grinds down against him. “Up. Fuck. Up. Apartment. Now.”

He’s not sure how they make it through the front door, much less to the bedroom, but the apartment is empty and silent. He undresses her with clumsy, shaking hands. He’s done this before with girlfriends and groupies, but this is different. This is Courtney. And touching her as she reaches back and unhooks her bra for him nearly makes him lose control.

He catches her hands, keeping them still at her hips, walking her backwards to one of the twin beds. Her eyes are huge, dark brown with threads of gold through them, her pupils obliterating most of the color. She splays out easily on his rumpled sheets, and he has to stop and look at her for a moment. Her skin is flushed and her breasts are full, nipples hard and dark pink. “Jesus.”

“Quit fucking _stalling_.” It fails as an order when her voice breaks, but it works, bringing him to his knees on the bed between her legs.

“I’m gonna…I want…” He kisses her stomach then her sternum, and then her breast is in his mouth. He curves his tongue around the nipple as he sucks, the hand not supporting him moving to cup her other breast.

“Oh!” Her hips jerk up and her hands tangle in his long hair, fingers tugging in time with the pressure of his mouth. “Oh. G-god. Mike. F-fuck.”

He groans against her skin, holding himself braced over her as he releases her other breast, his hand skimming down her side, her waistband.

“Yes. Yes. C’mon.” She slips a hand between their bodies, undoing her jeans, canting her hips up to him to push them off of her. She wriggles them down and Mike can’t think, can’t breathe. He presses two fingers to the wet fabric of her panties.

“Fuck. Court. Shit.”

She doesn’t answer beyond pushing down toward his fingers. Mike moves the fabric aside, the elastic digging against his skin as he traces his fingers over her, parting the wet flesh and then pushing them slowly inside her.

“Mike. F-fuck. God. Just…yes. Just…”

She’s wet and hot, her body tight around his fingers. He moves his mouth to her other breast, nearly overbalancing himself, his fingers pushing deeper. Courtney gasps loudly, then gives a surprised cry. Mike pulls back, tongue flicking over her nipple as he shifts his hand, thumb rubbing her clit.

“Mike. God. Mike. Stop. God. Please. Please. God.” She arches off the bed, muscles tensing, the hot rush of her orgasm coating his fingers. She collapses back on the bed, bringing her leg up, her foot against his shoulder to shove him back. “Fuck. God.”

He stares at her, his jeans painfully tight over his dick. “What?”

She arches up again, shoving her panties down. “C’mon.”

“Oh, thank fuck.” He undoes his jeans and shoves them and his boxer briefs down his thighs. He reaches back to dig his wallet out of his pocket, fumbling for a condom. “Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Courtney, you’re so…I want…” He rips the condom open and rolls it on as he walks on his knees further up the bed between her legs. He pushes her thighs apart and keeps a tight hold on the base of his dick as he strokes it down her wet skin before pushing inside her.

Courtney wraps her legs tight around him, rocking up against him. Mike tenses, all of his muscles locked, desperate not to lose control yet. He digs his fingers into the pillow on either side of her head, catching strands of her hair in his fists.

Her legs tighten and she comes again. Mike’s eyes close, his hips jerking, slamming into hers as he comes as well. “Holy…just…fuck.” He gasps roughly, breathing hard. It takes a moment for him to register anything, from the hard grip of her thighs to the sharp sting of her nails digging into his shoulders. He looks down at her and laughs unsteadily. “Shit.”

She loosens her grip and pushes him off of her. “Sleep it off, Mike,” she tells him with a quick kiss and a smile. “Morning is going to kick your ass.”

**

Mike doesn’t wake up to the sun or a hangover. Instead he’s forcibly jerked from his bed and being kicked somewhere way too close to really important parts of his body.

“What the _fuck_?”

Courtney groans and sits up in bed, shielding her eyes as the lights come on. “Mike?”

“I said _talk_ to him, not _fuck_ him.” Mike’s brain takes a second to recognize William’s voice, given that it’s hitting an octave he’s never heard before.

“We did talk!” Courtney gathers the sheet around her, covering her breasts, but leaving the line of her back and the upper curve of her ass exposed. Mike’s survival instincts kick in and he stops looking at her, using William’s distraction to tug on his boxer-briefs and his jeans.

“About the _band_ , not about the fact that you have a _thing_ for him.”

“We did!” Seeing two Becketts fight is amazing stubbornness, intelligence, and the pure inability to be wrong at work. “We talked about your band, Bill, and about how maybe he shouldn’t stick around if you’re going to assume you’re _always_ right, that only _you_ get it. It’s a _band_ , remember? Not the fucking William Beckett show!”

“No, it’s apparently the fucking _Courtney_ Beckett show.”

“Get out!”

“Fuck you,” William yells back at her. “It’s _my_ apartment! It’s _my_ room!”

“No, it belongs to _both_ of you, but God forbid you admit you need someone else. Now get out!”

“No!”

“Fine!” Courtney throws off the covers, and Mike launches himself onto the bed, covering her up again.

“She wants to get dressed, Bill.” He looks up at William, eyes pleading with him. “Just…go out in the living room, okay? I’ll be right out.” Bill slams the bedroom door behind him and Mike slumps on the bed. “You’re naked.”

“I told him to leave.”

“Yeah.” Mike gets off the bed and looks around for his shirt. “Did…was…” The pillow catches him solidly upside the head. “What?”

“Don’t you _dare_ imply that I fucked you for my brother’s sake or there won’t be big enough pieces of you left to identify.”

“Right. So, if not that then…” He ducks one of his own sneakers. “Hey!”

“Because I apparently have a thing for complete fucking idiots.” Her breath catches on something that sounds dangerously like a sob. “Go…go fucking fix things with Bill.”

“I…” He’s pretty sure there’s something he should say, but he honestly has no idea what that is. “Okay.” He walks out into the living room and sits down next to William on the ratty futon they found in front of the apartment dumpster. It smells like weed and wet dog, but it beats sitting on the floor.

Courtney comes out a few minutes later, fully dressed, and slams the door loudly behind her on her way out. They stay silent until the echo stops and then Mike clears his throat.

“I had no idea she was your sister, man.”

William punches him hard. “You’re a fucking _asshole_.”

“Yeah, yeah. Well, your sister’s hot.”

“Shut up! Fuck.” William punches him again and then slumps back against the futon. “You said you’re leaving the band.”

“It’s not working, Bill. We both know it. And you and Tom…you guys get along.”

“So?”

“So…that’ll be good for writing songs.”

“In what universe? When have I ever written a song that didn’t need polishing, fixing? That didn’t need you to fine-tune it? That didn’t need your input?”

“Tom can give you his.”

“Tom _agrees_ with me.”

“So?”

“So?” He looks at Mike incredulously. “So? You _don’t_.”

“I know,” Mike snaps. “I get it, okay? I _get_ it. That’s why I’ll go.”

“No, Mike. Jesus. That’s why _Tom_ has to go.”

“What?”

“If I wanted to write my songs without anyone’s input, I’d still be doing my own thing. I wouldn’t be in a _band_. I need someone to fight with, to challenge me. I need…I need _you_ , you fucking idiot.”

Mike exhales then shoves off the futon. He goes into the kitchen and grabs two beers, handing one to William as he crawls over the back of the seat. His head is pounding and he's pretty sure he's forgetting things that he's angry and upset about. "So we need to talk to Tom."

"Yeah." Whatever energy or anger had been fueling William is gone now, and he slumps further on the futon, kicking his legs out in front of him as he drinks his beer. "Talk to him. Kick him out of the band."

"We could just ask him to go."

"And if he says no?"

Mike frowns at his beer. "Then we kick him out."

"Because we're completely incapable of behaving like normal people and sharing."

"Kindergarten was a bitch." Mike twists the pull tab from his beer until it snaps off with a hollow twang. "If it'll help, I can be a real asshole."

"You _are_ a real asshole," Bill laughs. "God, that's half our problem."

"Yeah, and the other half is you're a fucking diva." There's not much heat in his words. "And the other half is him. Always all over you, always complimenting you. You could just let him suck your dick and get it all over with, you know."

Bill looks at him for a long time and then starts laughing. "You've got no fucking clue, do you?"

"What?"

"Sharing." Bill presses his lips together to keep from laughing. "God, I should make you wait to find out."

"Find out what, asshole?" Mike punches him. "Tell me."

"You fucked Tom's girlfriend."

"I did not! I haven't..." Mike stops, horrified. "You're letting him fuck your _sister_?"

"I don't know about fucking, since I haven't actually walked in on _them_." Bill drains his beer and stands up. “My _sister_. Ew.”

“She’s really hot.”

William gives him a dirty look. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll _never_ say that again.”

“Right. Not another word.”

**

Mike hits the coffee shop in the morning because he doesn’t want to be around when Bill wakes up and remembers the night before, plus they’re out of anything resembling caffeine. He knows a few of the girls on staff, since it’s close to their practice space, but only enough to say hi, smile, and maybe get a free coffee. His hopes crash when he realizes Courtney’s sitting near the window and that flirting is the last thing he’s going to be doing.

“Hey.” He comes over to the table and nudges the empty seat with his foot. “This seat taken? Or reserved for your boyfriend?”

“Bill told you?” She pushes her croissant in his direction and he tears off a hunk of it. “Tom’s not my boyfriend. We’ve just gone out a couple of times

“He thought it was relevant information, you know, what with the whole contention between band members and stuff we have going on.”

She shrugs and pulls off a piece of the croissant. “He called me because he knows I know how important you are to him, even if he can’t say it or you can’t see it. He hoped I could get that across to you. Of course, you’re not going to believe it coming from me, so I figured I’d try something else, maybe give you a different reason.”

“You don’t actually think we’re going to do that again, do you?”

Hurt flashes across her face and she takes a drink of her coffee. “You and Tom are his friends, and he doesn’t want to hurt either of you, but you’re the kind of person he needs. You’re the one who will push him, who will fight with him, who will make him be better. The thing is that Bill’s not good at being the bad guy. That’s another reason he has you.”

“So you gave me more fuel for the fire? If it’s not enough that Bill and I started this with Adam and so if there’s not enough room in this town for both of us, Tom has to go, then I can just throw out there that you fucked me to get me to stay?”

“You do what you have to do.” She stands up and gives him a tight smile. “And for the record, no pun intended, I fucked you because I’ve had a thing for you since I met you. Fortunately, you cured me of that. I’m sure you’ll have no problem convincing Tom of what an asshole you are, so getting him to leave shouldn’t be hard at all.”

Mike turns and watches her shove open the door of the coffee shop, nearly knocking Bill and Sisky off their feet. Sisky stops in mid-hello as she ignores them, going to the counter to order drinks while Bill sinks in Courtney’s deserted seat.

“That doesn’t look like it went well.”

He wants to get up and follow Courtney and ask her what she meant by that, to pin her against a wall and make her talk to him, kiss him again. He wants her to prove that she wants him, wants to hear her say his name like she did last night. He pushes the thought to the back of his mind for now and glares at Bill instead. “I really fucking hate you, do you know that?”

“Yeah,” Bill nods. “But you’re staying in the band.”  



End file.
